Dylan's Sophomore Year

DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR

Chapter 78

by Donny Mumford

Willie and I overdid the alcoholic beverages at dinner, and now I'm depending on him to get us home safely. He's behind the wheel of this hundred and fifty thousand dollar Mercedes not showing the confidence I was hoping to see. He looks nervous and to make matters worse it's a pitch black night with storm clouds blocking the moon and stars. Willie's squinting as he pulls out of the parking lot onto route 9. Route 9 is brightly lit, but when we get off the highway Willie's now negotiating narrow suburban roads that have no street lights. He does okay until we're almost home when he misses the turn-off for his street and runs up a curb and onto the sidewalk. I mumble, "Awesome suspension on this car, huh?" Willie snickers as he backs off the sidewalk and makes the correct turn about ten feet further down the road, and then the skies open up with heavy rain pouring down on us and now the visibility reduces to pretty much guess work and familiarity with the road. Neither of us says anything as Willie drives very slowly, straining to see, and then we both yell, "There's the driveway!" He turns onto the winding driveway leading to his mansion-like house and when we approach the four-car garage motion detector lights come on brilliantly, basically blinding us. Willie mutters, "Balls," holding his hand up to block the brightness, then he activates the garage door opener and drives us out of the rain, almost taking the right rearview mirror off on my side of the car. Looking at me while turning off the engine, he mutters, "Fucking piece of cake, huh?" I go, "Awesome driving, Willie," and we do the stupid, slightly drunk, giggling thing again.

We get drenched running from the garage to the house, and when inside we leave two sets of wet footprints walking through the kitchen, up the back stairs, and then down the hall to his bedroom. After pulling off our soaking wet clothing we use clean towels to dry each other and then Willie gives me a new electric toothbrush, seriously saying, "You can keep that if you want." Opening the plastic wrapper to extract my new toothbrush, I'm like, "Yippee, an early Christmas present." We go through the bedroom and right into the bathroom because both of us badly needs to take a piss. We do that standing next to each other watching the piss bubbles form in the toilet. While washing our face and hands, Willie says, "I hate driving when I'm drunk." I say again, "You did good, Willie." He chuckles, mumbling, "Yeah, except some asshole moved the fucking street back there, heh heh," and we're into the drunken giggling again. After brushing our teeth and climbing naked onto his large bed, then scrambling under the covers, Willie flicks the switch next to the headboard killing the lights. A couple of quick goodnight kisses, then Willie gets his arms around me for a hug as we rustle around getting comfortable, and go to sleep without fucking.

Much too soon it's Friday morning and Willie's gently shaking my shoulder, asking, "You awake, Dylan?" I roll over opening my eyes, saying, "Yeah, I am now, but my head's killing me." He goes, "Mine too." He staggers out of bed going over to the half-refrigerator that's part of a long built-in series of cabinets, bookshelves, desks, drawers, and whatever. The built-in goes along one entire wall. He says, "It's only seven-twenty so we definitely need more sleep, but first..." and he comes back with a plastic bottle of Advil and two twelve ounce bottles of orange juice. After taking the Advil and draining the bottles of OJ we need to take another piss, then it's back to bed cuddling together. The next thing I know the clock on the nightstand reads ten after eleven. Happily I'm feeling better, although not great. Willie's still sleeping so I lay here staring at him. He seems to get more handsome each year, but when he laughs or grins I can still see the cute boy I remember from the day I first met him when he asked me if I wanted to blow him. That makes me smile and stare at him some more thinking about some of the crazy times we've had together. A couple of minutes later Willie opens one eye and grins at me, saying, "I felt you looking at me." I make a 'face' at him, "No you didn't," and he goes, "If I ask you pretty please, will you blow me?" That makes me laugh out loud because it's basically what I was thinking he said the first time we met. He goes, "What's so funny?" and I tell him. Willie laughs, denying he said that, "I did not! Not the first words our of my mouth anyway." I shrug, "Okay, maybe they weren't the first words," although I'm pretty sure they were. I mumble, "It was a long time ago so I may have gotten it a little mixed-up." He sticks his jaw out and breaths noisily, then says, "I think I've got morning breath. Lets brush our teeth and then make-out," and that's what we do.

Back in bed Willie lays on me, chest to chest, his legs on either side of mine and his long cock against my thigh. He holds my head between his hands and kisses me very much like a lovers kiss at first. It's nice but we gets aroused and begin squirming against one another, then get into a seriously hot make-out with Willie's tongue in my mouth. Our penises begin to firm up as Willie slides his tongue across my cheek and puts his lips on my ear, murmuring, "Pretty please, suck my dick, Dylan." I slide down his hot body getting between his legs. I'm at the end of the mattress with my legs outside the covers and bent at the knees with my feet in the air. Picking up his long firm dick with my fingers I lick the head like it's an ice cream cone...

doing long licks. Willie throws the covers off of us and puts his hands on my shoulders squeezing them as his ass squirms on the bed and I hear him blowing air through his lips in short puffs. As the sensations from his hardening cock increase he humps his hips a few times, moaning, "Ummm, oooh fucccck." When his cock's hard I slide it into my mouth sucking on the shaft with my lips and tongue. He does two quiets grunts, "Umth, umth," and I slide the head past the gag reflex area and into my throat. Little by little I take his entire boner in my mouth and throat, my nose finally embedded in pubic hairs. Willie lifts his ass off the bed, "Oooh, aaah, aah, Dylan, ooh." I'm working my throat muscles on his hard cock until I begin gagging, then quickly pull my head back with his cock sliding out of my throat just as a blob of precum drools out onto my tongue. Willie's pushing on my shoulders, mumbling, "No, aaah, no more, oooh." I take his cock from my mouth stroking it and watching precum bubble out of his cock's pink pee slit. The precum bubble gets bigger and bigger, then slides down the hard shaft.

Willie's voice is husky when he says, "Sit on it, Dylan, okay?" I nod my head getting up on my knees. Walking up his body on my knees, a knee on either side of him, until my ass is over his crotch. We look into each other's eyes with Willie's cock in his fist. He's holding it straight up so I lower my ass until the wet head of his boner hits next to my asshole. Willie adjusts and I lower my ass a bit, and, "Aaaa, umm," the head pops in past my sphincter. Willie moans, "Mmmmm, niceeee," and takes his hand away. Lowering my butt slowly I go down, down, down, half-inch by half-inch. Halfway down his pole I stop to take a couple of deep breaths with Willie and me still staring into each other's eyes. He grins looking like that kid at Carl's cookout years ago. I grin back and slowly continue my trip down, down, down with his cock going up, up, up my ass. My head and shoulders do a little shudder as sensations fire up off my anus and prostate causing another shoulder shudder. I make a 'face' at him and then sit down the rest of the way, my butt cheeks resting firmly on his thighs. Willie goes, "Ooooh, that feels good." He reaches out his arms and we hold hands as I lift up as slowly as I went down on his throbbing pole, then with only the head of his cock inside me I hesitate just a second and then go right down on his boner again, grimacing a little from a touch of pain. Almost immediately though my rectum's gets the message and when I lift up it's all good without any hurt, "Mmmm, nice boner, Willie, really nice!" He says, "Ride it, baby," and I get into a nice rhythm sliding up and down on his hard cock feeling it expand a little with Willie moaning and squirming on the bed.

We continue holding hands, both hands, as I go for a ride on his hot boner sucking my lips and concentrating on the sensational activity happening in my rectum. My boner bobs in front of me as I lift up and drop down steadily for three or four lusciously sexual minutes. Then muscles at the top of my thighs begin stiffening-up. I groan, then say, "You're gonna have to take over the fucking, Willie boy, my legs are giving out." He says, "Okay, but keep my cock in your ass if you can." I slowly lower my knees to the mattress, his cock going snugly all the way up my ass and feeling so good I bite my bottom lip again, murmuring, "Aaaah, this feels so good, Willie." He says, "Lean forward now." Willie's holding my hands guiding me as I lower myself towards him, then he lets go of my hands and holds my shoulders steadying me until my forehead's resting on his shoulder A few inches of his boner remains in my asshole. Willie brings his feet up, his knees in the air on either side of me. He hugs my head and starts humping his hips driving his boner up my ass right on my prostate gland. "Oh fuck, Willie, yes... do it faster, aaah, mmm." Awesome sexual sensations explode in my rectum as my orgasm's building quickly.

Hump, hump, hump,hump... Willies hips thrust back and forth with me limply bumping forward with each thrust of his hips. Constant moans and grunts of sexual pleasure from both of us now with me hugging his shoulders. He pounds his boner up my ass, "Slap, slap, slap." Each hump jarring me forward as sensations build and build until my moans sound desperate and I'm hugging around his neck now, my face tight against the side of his neck, next to his jaw. My lips are pressed against his neck, my ear near his cheek so I hear every quiet grunt from Willie as he hump, hump, humps his boner in my ass. The sensations are so sexy and Willie smells so good and my boner's feeling awesome as it's sliding a little between our stomachs drooling precum with each thrust of his hard cock inside my ass. Incredible sensations coming from my ass as well as from the head of my boned-up cock that sliding continually on his stomach just below Willie's breast bone. All these sexy sensations I'd happily experience for quite a while longer except my climax is totally on me now. I gasp as my body gets stiff, then a muffled squeal with my mouth against the side of Willie's neck as my hips do an involuntary hump forward with cum streaming from my cock creamily wetting between our chests, then another hump from me and more cum streaks out. Willie rolls me over so I'm almost in a ball with my knees on the bed and me leaning over them so my head's almost touching the mattress. Willie's behind and above me, his cock still up my ass. He takes a few ragged breaths then rabbit fucks my ass incredibly fast with him grunting and making whining sounds of arousal. Less than a minute later he lays against my buttocks flopping against me making gasping sounds with cum flooding my insides. He's a little out of control for a few seconds, than he just lays against me, his chest against my back, his face on the back of my head. He's groaning and breathing hard and fast before slowly sliding sideways off my ass, pulling his cock out as he falls. He lays panting next to me as I stretch out now and flop over on my back. Heavy breathing from both of us as we turn our heads towards each other grinning. With a gasping breath, I tell him, "You are one awesome 'top', Willie, and ya got yourself a damn nice penis too." He laughs, "Hey, this ain't my first rodeo ya know. Your ass and my cock fit like a glove." He rolls up on his side and leans down for a tongue involved kiss, then he licks across my lips, mumbling, "Yum." Wow, it feels really good being excellently fucked.

After licking my lips Willie lays back down next to me and we both sigh at the same time making us laugh. He says, "Shower time, huh?" and we roll off the bed and take a shower together rubbing gel on one another using our bare hands. Willie can't come up with another boner though, so we give up on the idea of follow-up sex. My ass is a little sore anyway so I'm not really all that disappointed. He complains, "My dick's kinda sore, Dylan." I mumble, "Yeah, I imagine it is. Hell, our missing boners might have something to do with us being past our prime-fucking-years, Willie, or maybe it has something to do with the fact we've fucked three or four times in the last eighteen hours." He mutters, "Past our prime, my ass." After our shower Willie gives me more of his clean clothes to wear, sans the girlie panties this morning. Boxer shorts, socks, then another pair of his designer khaki's and a hoodie sweat shirt over another silk t-shirt. My sneakers are still a little damp from last night, but Willie's shoes are a couple of sizes too big so I wear my damp ones. As we're drinking coffee in the kitchen, I notice Willie's wearing jeans, and sarcastically ask, "Do they let you shop in Louis wearing jeans?" He laughs, "They'd let me shop there wearing a bathing suits or a jockstrap if I felt like it. They're not gonna lose all the money dad and I spend there. You do know this current Louis is a department store, right? It's not the Louis store in the past that featured only men's clothing." Actually I didn't know that, or care. What I like is the way Willie talks about 'my dad' this and 'my dad' that. Willie's finally reconciled with his parents. He told me awhile ago they were all getting along more like a family instead of three separate individuals who just happened to be related. Their relationship began improving after Willie's and my Key West trip when their relationship hit rock bottom, and they rebuilt it from scratch, leaving the bad times in the past forgotten forever.

We're outside his house walking towards the garage and the odd-looking Mercedes, with me asking, "How come they pronounce 'Louis' as 'Louie's?" He shrugs, "Because they can, I guess." Willie drives down busy route 93 south, and then across the Zakim Bridge into Boston. It's always a challenge for me driving in Boston, but Willie knows his way around and he's able to match the other driver's aggressiveness. In Boston it's dog eat dog traffic. He also knows convenient places to park for only $24 an hour...that's nuts! This version of Louis on Newbury street is a three-floor upscale department store with ludicrously expensive prices. Steps lead up to the front entrance and when inside I'm surprised to see all kinds of home goods on the first floor. Willie buys a few items telling me Louis is the only store he knows, other than stores in Paris, where he can buy soaps and lotions from Diptxque, which means absolutely nothing to me. He adds, "And look, Dylan, coffee from Fauchon," as he holds up a box. Shrugging I nod my head, then frown at a sign advertising, 'Wonderfully soft Sherpa blankets'. Whatever a Sherpa blanket is, the ones here go for $5500 each. Huh. There are a number of CD listening booths around, which isn't pretentious... not at all. I watch a snooty-acting male sales clerk staring at two ladies in their twenties who are making faces at some of the prices, much like I'm doing. The snooty salesman approaches them, and asks, "What are YOU two looking for?" It's like these ladies shouldn't be looking for anything in this department store because they can't afford anything here. I can't believe how rude he was. Neither of the women have anything to say to that, instead they're acting like they've been properly scolded and they scurry out of the store. That really blows!

When Willie's done buying stuff he doesn't need, he give the sales clerk his credit card telling her to Fed Ex everything to his house, then we take the stairs to the second floor. There's an escalator but by taking the stairs we get to gawk at more of the gaudy decor. As far as I can tell Louis is one part high-end department store and two parts sartorial museum. They can't be serious with some of these displays. Men's and women's clothing are on the second floor and the first counter we come to I lift a tag on a woman's purse, and read: 'Alpaca trimmed purse. Price, $3000'. I didn't look at the rest of the purses thinking I probably won't do much Christmas shopping here. We walk through the women's section to get to men's clothing. There are consistently questionable ladies' fashions on display every step I take. Maybe they're intentionally outlandish to prove how different Louis is. I honestly can't imagine where a woman would wear some of these fashions. In the men's department I hear a young man say to the girl he's with, "How about the snobbery and attitude of these sales people? Fuck them!" She says, "Yeah, if you're not wearing Givenchy the sale staff stick their noses up. Lets get out of here, Ted." Ted was kinda cute, and I wouldn't mind getting out of here myself.

We're not in the men's department for ten seconds before two youngish salesmen rush over making a fuss over Willie, and yes, they call him 'William', then a third guy goes, "Mr. Worthington, how are you this morning?" He smiles insincerely adding, "I should have said, this afternoon." Willie shrugs

and waves his hand dismissively at him and the salesman does something with his shoulders while lifting his head and then stalks away. I watch him go

wondering, what the fuck? While the two salesmen that got to Willie first fawn all over him, I watch another salesman glaring at a sloppily dressed middle aged man. I interpret the 'glare' as inferring, 'You sir are poor and fat and your fashion sense is disturbing!' I could be wrong about that, but other than the glare the salesman is blatantly ignoring the guy who's obviously looking around for someone to help him. I get introduced to the salesmen as a dear friend of William's, and then we all spend a half hour examining various suits and other clothing items that Willie doesn't need, but is contemplating buying anyway because he likes to shop. The original two salesmen, both in their early thirties are dressed in the latest Louis hideous men's fashions,. They both scurry around bringing the various clothes for us to examine. Neither of the salesmen refer to me by name even once, but happily they manage not to sneer at me. After rejecting some ridiculous looking suits that resemble costumes more than suits, I settle on a conventional two-button summer weight gray wool suit for $3300. It's the cheapest suit we looked at. Willie chooses a tie and two shirts to go with the suit, plus a $285 belt. I didn't notice what the tie and shirts cost, but it's all slightly absurd and a little sick. I know from experience that trying to talk Willie out of buying me this stuff would embarrass him, so I don't bother trying. He has an image to maintain I suppose.

The snootier of the two salesmen carries my new suit, saying to me, "This way, if you please." I'm rolling my eyes following him into a dressing room where he hangs the suit up, telling me, "Wonderful choice, sir. The tailor will be in momentarily." I assumed he would be, and just for shits and giggles I put on an aloof, bored demeanor, like... how very tiresome this is. The guy does a huffy lift of his head and leaves. I stare after him for a second, then get undressed and put the suit on. I gotta admit it is a beautifully made suit and it feels like I'm hardly wearing anything. The tailor makes a dramatic entrance pushing the curtains open unnecessarily wide, then with a flourish he closes them. He looks disapprovingly at my suit, like I've got to be kidding. He's a small wrinkled man of a much older generation with a phony Italian accent, who's trying to out-aloof me and doing a damn good job of it. It's like his job as tailor is so beneath him it's ridiculous. He barks out gruff commands at me, like... 'stand up straight' or 'turn around' 'turn to your right, your other right!' and things like that. I have nothing to say to him other than a few exasperated sighs to show him how annoying this is. When he's measuring for my pant legs the back of his wrinkled knuckles are against my balls. Little chalk marks here and there and he's gone, taking the offending suit with him. Huh! After getting dressed again I join Willie who's mercifully finished buying stuff he doesn't need. I'm told the suit will be tailored and Fed Ex'd to my condo within three business days, or I can pick it up if I like. I take an exasperated breath, sounding phony when I say, "Fed Ex, of course," making Willie laugh. I can't help grinning which ruins my aloof act. Needless to say the two salesmen couldn't give a shit less about my act, aloof or otherwise

I have no idea what Willie's final total for our purchases was, and frankly I don't care. Whatever the total it was simply applied to his account without Willie even signing for it. He's obviously better known in the men's wear department than home goods where he needed to show his card. He takes me to the third floor now where there's a unisex hair salon. Willie tells me he got his current haircut there, and in a separate area on the third floor there's a cafe/bar where we have lunch. Willie's ecstatic about the things he bought today, all of which will be Fed Ex'd to his house because he's certainly not going to carry that stuff around with him. I'm exhausted by now and still a little hungover, so I'm not ecstatic. Actually I'm a little sick of the ridiculously rich, to be honest about it. Louis exists as a outlet of indulgence for those showing off their affluence. Looking at Willie I'm wondering what it's like being him. There's no way to know of course, but I'm quite sure I'd rather be me. I'd have been happier buying a $150 suit at Kohl's and be done with it in ten minutes. While waiting for our lunch Willie and I do what all people our age do: we read and send texts on our smart phones, occasionally sharing something outrageous or funny one of our friends texted to us. I text Ryan and Robby and return a text to Sonny and Connor. Sonny's text was from last night indicating he wants a haircut, which he texts me about every week. I tell him to text me after he gets out of school today, which is when he'll probably read this text of mine. I kinda miss that orange-haired lad so I hope he can come over before I go back to Merrimack. Our lunch arrives and my lobster roll is very good, although I'm not sure it's good enough to justify the $32 it costs.

After lunch Willie's very apologetic about needing to drop me off at my house. The reason being he promised to spend the weekend with his father and mother, who happen to be in New York City. Willie has finals week coming up like me, but he's not the least bit concerned about them. He tells me he has a GPA of 3.6 which I believe. Whatever the reason he's dropping me off, it's awesome news to me because Willie's lifestyle gets tiresome after awhile, especially if you're not used to it like me. While he's driving me to my place I thank him again for everything and we make vague plans to see each other sometime soon. I've no idea how that's going to be possible considering my trip to Georgia, but there's no sense going over that again. I told Willie about my plans for the summer at dinner last night and he more or less shrugged it off as no big deal. He's mostly concerned about the moment he's in, and about himself of course. Our lives are so different it's amazing we've been friends and lovers for so long. The past twenty-four hours with Willie seems in some ways like a week because he packs so much into each

minute. I've enjoyed myself though, and I tell him so making him smile, "Thanks, Dylan. I loved every minute being with you." He's definitely changed

for the better and I need to take my hat off to this latest version of Willie Worthington, it's not perfect but I'm far from perfect myself. I think it's the best version of Willie so far. Way back when we first met I initially was attracted to him because he was so uniquely cute and different, and because of his dominant demeanor. For now though, the kind of dominant behavior he displayed back then interests me less and less the older I get. It was fun back in the day, but that's the past and this is a new morning.

We do a quick kiss goodbye with Willie saying, "It's been beyond awesome spending time with you, Dylan. Great seeing you again," and that's about it. Almost relaxing. No nagging or trying to impose his will on me. None of the nagging, 'Come to New York with me' that would have occurred a year ago. Just an ordinary goodbye between gay friends. He honks the horn of that strange Mercedes and off he goes. Walking up the stairs to my condo I smile at the ridiculous thought of my new $3300 suit being worn to a little church in Georgia. I'm pretty sure the suit's going to be humiliated being there. My suit is expecting New York or Paris, like it deserves... ha ha, tough shit, suit. Then I get a text as I'm unlocking the front door. Looking at my cellphone I notice it's quarter to three already, so mom should still be home. The text is from Sonny. When I get inside I text him right back, 'Bring your orange head of hair and come over whenever you want.' I hear rustling around in mom's bathroom so I take the opportunity to brush my teeth getting rid of the fishy taste of lobster. As I walk down the hall to the living room mom comes out of her bedroom excitedly saying, "You're home! I didn't expect you until Saturday, sweetheart." Big hug and, "What a wonderful surprise." We hug again and I get a number of kisses, then Mom holds he at arm's length, saying, "Oh Dylan! Darling your haircut's too short. You have the most beautiful hair. It's just like your grandfather's when he was your age. I showed you that picture of him, didn't I?" I go, "Well, yes, but it's a black and white picture." Then I tell her the haircut's a big mistake and that's the last we talk about it. We're sitting at the kitchen bar having a soda and talking as I realize my ass is sore and sitting on this hard stool isn't helping the matter. Mom and I talk for twenty minutes but then she needs to run. Mom and Tris have hair appointments. She explained she's dressed for work because they'll be going directly to work after getting their hair done. We make plans to have lunch together tomorrow and she insists I have dinner at the restaurant Saturday night. Robby and I have a date planned, but it can include dinner, so no problem.

As I'm getting my sore ass off the stool to walk mom to the door, I'm thinking it's a damn good thing Willie's dick isn't as fat as Ryan's or I'd be hurting for certain instead of this minor soreness. Mom leaves and I plop down on the soft sofa smiling at my mom's enthusiasm. She's the best mom ever. Laying back on the sofa I read Ryan's latest text that claims he's so bored he's actually studying for finals. I start to text him that I'm stuck here without a car, but don't because he might interpret that as an invitation to join me here and for some reason, mostly having to do with Robby and my mom, that would make for an awkward situation. I text him that I feel bad he's so bored, but it's great he's studying." He asks what I've been doing and I tell him I've been seeing my mom and some friends, people I won't get to see again until I'm back from my Georgia summer with him. That sounds about right and he texts back, 'Have fun. Lova ya!'

For a second I try remembering what I'm waiting for, then remember Sonny's haircut. Okay, I'm looking forward to doing that and I don't need to wait long because I can hear his motorbike's muffler from way down at the curb. That bike needs a new muffler. Getting up I look out the front window watching Sonny skipping up the steps full of youthful energy. My hangover is mostly gone, but I'm still a little tired from keeping up with Willie. Opening the door before Sonny rings the bell, I look at him standing there. He's giving me his confident smirking grin and running his fingers through his wild head of orange hair. His hair only approaches the color 'red' when it's quite short. Guess the roots have most of the pigmentation. With his blue eyes shining, he asks, "What the fuck kind of haircut did you get? Did you join the marines, Dylan?" I go, "Oh my God, Sonny, what a clever remark! The marines, huh? I'd never have made that connection." He barges his way inside giving me a one arm hug and a kiss on his way by, saying, "Everybody who sees you probably asks the same thing." He takes my hand pulling me towards the balcony, saying, "I've been dying for a cigarette all fucking day." I grab his arm stopping him, asking, "How fucking tall are you now?" He goes, "I had a late growth spurt, I'm a little over five feet, eight inches. I grew some, huh?" I'm like, "I guess, yeah you're getting there." He goes, "That's probably it though, don'cha think? I won't grow anymore. My brother, Devon's, only like a half inch taller than me." I shrug, "Ya never know," but it startled me how tall he is.

On the balcony Sonny puts his hand right inside my khaki pocket pulling out my box of Marlboro lights. Actually these are Willie's khakis, but now I guess they're mine. Looking at me with that familiar little cute smirk, Sonny takes a cigarette and plops it between his lips, asking, "Ya want one?" holding the open box at me grinning his devilishly cute grin. I take one mumbling, "You're looking cute as ever, Sonny, um, except for that mop of hair." He says, "Well, you never tell me when you're home and I'm certainly not paying for a haircut when I've got my own free barber." I chuckle, "Yeah, I don't blame you. What kind of haircut do you want?" He says, "We'll we can eliminate the haircut you have for starters." I'm like, "No shit," and he goes, "Yeah, I want a haircut like Brad Mills has." Exhaling a long cloud of smoke towards Sonny, I'm like, "Do I need to guess what that is?" He say, "Nah, I'll tell ya, but I've got this wicked crush on Brad. He's in my Lit class." We finish our cigarettes with Sonny gushing over this kid in his class at school. Then inside, I nod my head toward the hall and we start walking to my bedroom and continue on through it into the bathroom for his shampoo. On they way, I'm like, "You still haven't told me what kind of a haircut this guy Brad has." He says, "It's like a faux Mohawk, but not a short one." I'm dragging the desk chair into the bathroom, asking, "Is it possible for you to be a little bit more specific?" He takes his shirt off and his scent wafts up at me. Nice! His skin is almost pink and so firm-looking it's like new. He's almost skinny but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and say he's slim even though I can see a couple of his ribs.

Sonny sits on the chair holding his index and thumb about an inch apart, saying, "This long on either side of the Mohawks center, and the sides shorter than that. You know how to do it, Dylan." I nod my head, "Yeah, indeed I do, but that's a goofy haircut, Sonny. You're too cute to have an orange faux hawk. And anyway, that'd be kind of obvious to Brad, wouldn't it?" As he frowns thinking about that, I ask an obvious question, "Is this Brad person gay?" Sonny shrugs, "Probably not. Okay, no faux hawk, you're right, it'd be awkwardly obvious copying Brad's haircut. So, what should I get?" Ah yes, that question again. I'm moving my fingers through about five inches of hair on top of his head, it's like silk, but dense. I ask, "Why's your hair sticking up like this?" He goes, "The wind did it while I was riding over here." Shaking my head, "You're still not wearing a helmet? Don't ya ever get a ticket from the cops?" He goes, "Nah, I've got my helmet with me and when I get stopped I act really sincere telling the cop I just took the helmet off. An insect flew under it and was distracting me." Doubting his BS story, I'm blowing out a lot of air puffing out my cheeks as I start wetting Sonny's hair. When wet it almost looks red. "What kind of haircut, Sonny?" He goes, "Okay, let me think."

There's certainly lots of sudsy hair to run my fingers through on Sonny's head. When his hair's clean I massage his scalp with my finger tips and he hunches his shoulders, "That feels good, Dylan." I do it for another thirty seconds and then begin rinsing out the shampoo. Sonny goes, "I know what haircut I want, Dylan. It's the first haircut you gave me." I ask, "Was that a buzz cut?" and he says, "Yep, the buzz cut. My motorbike bud, Popcorn, has a buzz cut and he's been ragging on me to get one, so I will." I say, "Sure, Sonny, any haircut you want, buddy." He's like, "Well, to be clear, I'm not choosing a buzz cut because it was my first haircut from you, although that did occur to me. There's a bigger reason I decided on the buzz cut. Popcorn not only has been bugging' me to get one, we've, um, also been messin' around with each other too, so this will be like a gift from me to him. Obviously don't you fuckin' tell anybody Popcorn and I are screwing. I can confide in you about stuff like this. Stuff that my brother, Devon, would give me a lot of shit about if I mentioned it to him." I go, "Oh, so ya got a fuck buddy now, huh?" He shrugs, "Without going into details, I guess I could say that's affirmative. And, by the way, you don't need to be jealous about him because you're still one of my boyfriends. I've told him all about you, but not your name. He thinks I'm bullshitting him of course. He can't believe I'm banging a sophomore in college." I'm roughly drying his hair with a towel, mumbling, "Banging, Sonny? That's a little archaic isn't it. Anyway, you're not 'banging' me today," and he turns around in the chair looking at me, asking, "Why not? We always do it." I go back to drying his hair chuckling because we've done it three or four times and he calls that 'always'.

As I'm plugging in the hairdryer, he asks again, "Why not, Dylan?" I utilize another little white lie, saying, "Back at college I took a fall on my ass, pulling a muscle or something and it's wicked sore. It even hurts to walk." He nods his head, muttering, "Sorry to hear that, um, did you hurt your pecker too?" Holding the hairdryer, but not turning it on, I'm like, "You want me to fuck you, is that what you're saying?" He shrugs, "Well, we gotta do some sex together because we're boyfriends." I go, "We're not boyfriends, Sonny,"and he goes, "We sorta are." I tell him, "At most we're occasional fuck buddies," and then I turn the hair dyer on eliminating further discussion for the moment. I actually really would like to give his cute butt a fuck. I don't 'top' often enough so I'm not passing up this opportunity. I know Robby would be okay being a 'bottom' for me except I like when he fucks me too much to switch. With Ryan, forget about it... he's the 'top' period, I get that. While drying and brushing through Sonny's shiny orange hair I'm looking at his profile, especially liking his youthful creamy complexion. It's amazing someone who looks as young as Sonny can be eighteen. He's got a youthful baby face, but in his head he's eighteen going on twenty-five. He's a confident little fucker and I like his dominant fucks too, but my ass is sore so his idea is better, for today anyway.

Turning off the hairdryer, I ask, "This kid, Popcorn, does he have a real name?" Sonny stands up, "Yeah, of course, it's Cornelius Lemmon." I squeeze his thin shoulder, laughing, "Cornelius, huh? No wonder he has a nickname." We're walking down the hall with Sonny telling me, "He goes by his middle name, George, in school, but when I found out his real name I started calling him Popcorn and it stuck. Ya know, 'corn-elius'. So it's Popcorn or sometimes just Corn." We continue down to the basement where I left my barber toiletry kit when I got here yesterday. I was hoping I get a chance to give a couple of haircuts. Casual like, I ask, "Does Devon need a haircut?" I've always had a little thing for Devon. Sonny shakes his head, "Nah, he's been going to that new barbershop in Natick." I can't blame him because I'm totally unreliable. I don't even know when I'm gonna be back here in Framingham, so how could he. To make conversation, I ask, "Do you see the ex-posse boys very much?" He shrugs, "Yeah, now and then, but mostly I'm pretty tight with my own homies. There's four of us with motorbikes and we pretty much hook up with each other." Hmmm, I wonder exactly what he means by 'hook up with each other'? As I'm attaching the half inch guide to the Oster clippers, I ask, "Do all the motorbike boys, um, mess around like you and Popcorn?" He goes, "Not like Popcorn and me, no. Not that I know of anyway." I'm curious, "Who's the 'top', you or him?" and Sonny goes, "That's kind of a personal question." I mumble, "Oh, so I'll take that as meaning Popcorn tops," he goes, "Yeah, so what if he does? He won't let me fuck him, but he fucks me pretty good and I like it too." Ah ha, that's why he didn't do his usual dominant act insisting he fucks me. So, he likes taking it up his butt now. A lad after my own heart in that regard.

The clippers click on and there no talking for the five or six minutes I'm running the clippers through the hair on Sonny's head. It gives me a minor boner cutting off all that long hair and watching it fall off Sonny's head leaving a half inch stubble. Long batches of orange hair falling away as the clippers move on his head. The cut hairs hit his shoulder and scattering half on the floor, with the rest falling to his lap. He casually picks up a handful from his lap, asking, "Does it look red now, Dylan?" Meaning his half inch buzzed hair. I say, "Sort of," as I'm thinking that Sonny's like most guys in that he doesn't have an ounce of haircut fetish in him. It's like, it's a haircut, what's the big deal? It wasn't ever like that with me though. Even before I developed a full blown haircut fetish like Dodgers, whenever I got or gave a haircut it was always kind of a hot special experience. That goes back years and years when it was just Chubby and me giving each other buzz cuts. Haircutting never meant anything to Chubby either, but it did to me. Hell, Chubby didn't even mind that other guys took over my haircuts. Willie first, although he didn't cut it himself, then Robby and sometimes Sonny, and now Ryan exclusively, for this summer at least.

When I'm done with his haircut, Sonny and I both rub our hands over his buzzed head, with him saying, "Damn, that feels good. When Popcorn's blowing me I rub his head and it got me thinking about a buzz cut for myself, but then I got the crush on Brad and he has the faux hawk, so ya know." I go, "You made the right decision." Sonny looks around, asking, "We gonna do it here or your bedroom?" I say, "Here's good, Sonny, but just a fast, hot buddy fuck, okay?" I'm staring at Sonny's new buzz cut and then at all his cut hairs on the floor and it revives my haircut fetish creating a buzzing around my dick again. Yeah, it seems like a hot idea to fuck Sonny here with me doubly stimulated from fucking him and the recent haircut. Then I think about how Sonny is so blasé about this fuck and assume that means he's routinely getting fucked. Good for him. He hands me a condom, mumbling, "I don't want your sticky glop up my ass." I ask, "Oh, but your sticky glop was fine going up my ass?" He grins, muttering, "Yeah, I've got special sticky glop and anyway Popcorn made me promise to always use condoms." I ask, "And you always do what Popsicle says, huh?" He laughs, "Not Popsicle, Popcorn! And yeah I do pretty much what he says, why?" I shrug, mumbling, "No reason," but I don't like the thought of my little fuck buddy here getting in over his head with some dominant guy taking advantage of him. He drops his jeans to his knees, then pulls down his jockey shorts. Sonny has a nice cock and balls and of course they're surround by bright orange pubic hair. He strokes his cock with his fist, saying, "Since you're doing the fucking you'll need to suck my cock first to even things out." I'm looking at the condom packet, then say, "What? Hey, not so fast. How about we make-out a little first." He's hesitant, "Um, ah, no offense, but Popcorn says guys don't make-out unless they're fags." I mumble, "Popcorn's fucked-up, Sonny." He shrugs, "Yeah, I kinda liked making-out with you, but how about doing it Popcorn's way, I mean, my way this time." I frown at him wondering where all Sonny's hot dominant spirit went, not that it's any of my business if he's submissive to this Popcorn asshole. And, what the fuck, I like sucking cute guy's dicks anyway, plus I get a boner while doing it, so why not....

I get on my knees and Sonny feeds his cock into my mouth inch by inch until the head hits the back of my throat and I shake my head leaning back a little. The scent coming off his slightly damp cock and balls is sexy hot and screams 'teenage boy'. When a teen has a good individual personal scent like Sonny, and not everyone does, there's something youthfully special about it. And like I said, he's got a very nice looking cock about the size of mine, or maybe a tad bigger. I lick and suck his cock while holding his heavy sack of nuts in my hand giving gentle squeezes every few seconds. He's quickly grunting as his cock bones-up hard, fairly fast too. Mine does too. Using my thumb and forefinger I stroke his boner until precum drools out onto my tongue and he stammers, "Oh, um, that's good, yeah okay, whoa," as he backs away. Tasty precum and I wouldn't have minded sucking his cock a while longer, but I stand up stroking my boner and putting the end of the condom packet between my teeth, then ripping it open and getting lube on my bottom lip. Sonny bends over with his hands on his knees and looks back at me, saying, "Don't be shy, Dylan. Really pound that boner of yours up my ass hard, that's the way Popcorn does it. That feels soooo good, but I don't need to tell you that." He automatically bent over like that so I guess that's the way he and Cornelius do it all the time. Rolling the condom on my pecker, I ask, "How old's this Popsicle kid anyway?" He frowns, "He's my age, whaddaya think? I'm not getting fucked by some old deviant down Watertown Street." I mumble, "I was hoping you weren't," and he says, "I already got one big brother, Dylan, and I love him, but one big brother is enough." I smack his ass, "SMACK!" and he yells, "No! No spanking." I'm like, "Ha! As I recall you smacked the shit out of my butt a few times." He chuckles, "Yeah, I live by a double standard though." Sonny has the classic bubble butt of two sweet pink mounds of firm muscled flesh that I can't resist squeezing. It's ruined a little when I spread his butt cheeks and see the orange hair around his asshole. Not many hairs, but pink and orange colors just don't go together very well.

As soon as my boner head hit his anus I let go of his butt cheeks and they hug my cock nicely, plus I no longer see the offending orange hairs. The head of my boner barely pokes his anus when it slips right in past his sphincter helped greatly by the lubricant on the condom. "Oh yeaaah, Dylan, that feels good." Sonny pushes his ass up a little more, then back and another inch of my cock disappears up his ass. I lean in and two more inches slides tightly up his ass, and it's, "Oooooh, yeaaah," from Sonny. He obviously has that special kind of rectum that accepts a hard cock without causing any pain. He's the perfect 'bottom' boy and that Popcorn person's one lucky guy. Sonny's rectum hugs my boner nice and tight as I push the rest of my boner up his ass and watch his back arch, as he moans, "Mmmmm, oooh, yeah." I'll be dammed, this rocks! Reaching over I grab hold of his hips and move my hips back pulling my boner out until just the head's hidden inside his ass. Man, I'd love to spank his pretty ass a few times, but I settle for driving my boner back up inside him until our bodies collide. He looks back, his eyes shining, as he says, "Fast and hard, okay, Dylan?" I shrug, mumbling, "You got it, dude," then it's, "Slap, slap, slap, slap," and a minute later I'm already feeling my orgasm build. With my grip on his hips I'm pulling Sonny back as I'm driving my cock up his ass. His body is loosely jerking around with each thrust up his ass. His bobbing buzz-cut head reminding me of the haircut I just gave him so I'm doubly aroused: there's my haircut fetish and the brilliant sensations coming off my cock. Add to that the, "Slap,slap,slap,slap," sounds of steady male fucking and I'm in for an early climax. Three or four minutes of steady fucking with Sonny moaning constantly and now I'm about to blow my load. Sonny's been murmuring, "Yea, yea, yea, yea," with each thrust up his ass. He starts stroking his cock now so I fuck him harder and faster, "SLAPSLAPSLAPSLAP," until my body gets stiff and my climax is past the tipping point. I lean against his buttocks humping against him grunting and biting my bottom lip, my face scrunched up trying not to squeal, but I do one anyway. It's a squeaky squeal with sensations around my groin and inside my thighs feeling almost like pain as cum pours into the condom. It's not pain though, it's intense sexual sensations then another orgasm as my body shakes and I feel dizzy from the concentrated sensations all around my belly and groin. I'm not used to 'topping' and having the sexual sensations concentrated in a small area like that and it was BAMB! and, wow, what a hot climax!

Still feeling slightly dizzy I'm puffing short bursts of air trying to do it quietly while forcing myself to keep humping my boner in his ass even though it's very sensitive after that big climax. Praying Sonny cum's soon, but until he does I gotta do my part, so it's, "SLAPSLAPSLAP," all over again and a minute later Sonny shakes, then while gasping he arches his back and with a funny, "Aaaaah, umpt," his hips thrust and I see his stream of cum land four feet away. A long streak of white, but he's still thrashing around and I suppose more cum's flying out of his cock. I couldn't see his shorter shots of cum because I'm blocked by his body. Still bent over, Sonny takes deep breaths and I grin watching his shoulders shudder the way mine do. Too bad he's not naked, that'd be even hotter. Damn that was kinda sweet as well as uber hot!. Stepping back I pull my cock from his ass making my shoulders and head do another little shudder. Sonny stands up with his hands on his hips bending backwards like he's stretching. Wondering about that, I take the cum-filled condom to the half bath to flush it, Sonny says, "Fuck, that felt good!" After cleaning my dick with a Handiwipe, I get a couple of wet paper towels to drop on the floor where Sonny shot his load. I'm moving the paper towels around with my foot as Sonny's still stroking his cock, asking, "Wouldn't it be awesome if we could stoke boners on ourselves like for five fucks in a row, one right after the other?" Horny little bastard. I laugh and shake my head as his cellphone beeps. He reads the text, then his thumbs move on his cellphone way faster than I can text. I don't use my thumbs when texting anyway.

As I'm tossing the dirty paper towels away, Sonny asks, "Would you take a ride with me, Dylan?" Like Willie, Sonny's changed. He's not acting like the hot-shit, wise-ass I remember. I ask, "Take a ride where?" and he goes, "To Popcorn's house. He just texted me and I want to show you off. You know, and prove I've got a college sophomore as a fuck buddy." Hmmm, I'm definitely interested in this Popcorn asshole. Guess I'm feeling a little protective of Sonny. But not wanting to be obvious, I go, "Why would I want to do that, Sonny?" He shrugs, "As a favor to me. I think you're the coolest guy ever and I want to showoff to Corn that you're my friend and fuck buddy. I won't tell him your right name or anything." Rubbing my fingers over his buzz cut hair, I mumble, "Yeah, sure, but I can't stay long." He grins, "Thanks, he's gonna shit when he sees you." Walking down the steps in front of the condo, Sonny asks, "You wanna wear the helmet?" and I'm like, "Nope, I'm not the one who'll get a ticket if we're stopped by a cop." He rubs his hand on his head, saying, "Well, no way am I covering up my new buzz cut with a helmet. The wind can't do a thing to my hair now." After he unlocks his motorbike and gets on, he looks at me, "Hop on behind me and hold me around my waist. I wouldn't want you falling off when I make my sharp turns." I'm happy to do as he says, it's sexy hugging him around his tight small waist with my face against the side of his neck enjoying his scent. Feeling self-conscious I chuckle, then ask, "Do we look like a couple of queers cuddling on a motorbike?" Sonny says, "Yeah, we do," and he does a wheelie pulling into traffic with a horn blaring behind us. Jesus!

Sonny drives this thing like a daredevil, obviously showing off and I'm holding onto him for more reasons than he feels good. He's a cool kid and he does feel good, and I've always liked him, plus I'm still a little psyched about giving him his buzz cut, and then the quick hot fuck, so I'm feeling good. I assume this friend of his lives in Framingham since he's eighteen and must of to high school, but Framingham's a big place and it takes almost twenty minutes of Sonny's wild driving before he's doing a big looping U-turn and then coasting up the driveway of a house in a middle class neighborhood. He comes to a stop in front of a kid who's looking at me like I'm from outer space. Then the kid glances at Sonny, then yells, "You did it!" He comes over to rub Sonny's head while glancing at me from the corner of his eyes. I stare back at him and he averts his eyes immediately and concentrates on Sonny. Swinging my leg over the back wheel I get off the bike while those two talk about Sonny's buzz cut. Cornelius is a little shorter and stockier than Sonny, and not good looking at all. Actually he's tough looking with a five o'clock shadow of a fairly well developed beard, and his buzz cut is about two months old so he has a shaggy head of course dark hair. If I didn't know he was eighteen I'd guess he was between twenty and twenty-five years old. Sonny says, "Popcorn, meet my college friend, Dwight Pierce. Dwight, this is the amazing, Popcorn." We nod at each other bumping fist, muttering, "Yeah, how ya doing."

Popcorn wears black horn rimmed eyeglasses, he's very muscular, and his lips turn down naturally so it looks like he scowling all the time. So, what the fuck is Sonny doing with this guy? The kid's been working on his bike so there's a smudge of something on his face and his hands are dirty. I just can't picture these two as a couple. Sonny looks like a cute young choirboy and Popcorn looks like a member of a motorcycle gang. He goes, "College student, huh? I thought you were in the Marines when I first saw you." Surprisingly he has a very friendly, pleasant-sounding voice that doesn't go with his appearance at all. I shrug, "I get that a lot, Popcorn. If I had let Sonny cut my hair I wouldn't have this unfortunate haircut." He looks surprised, "You cut hair, Sonny?" This sounds sweet, in a good way. Sonny shrugs, "Only Dyl, I mean, only Dwight's hair. Then I fuck him." Popcorn laughs, "You do not," and he looks at me, "Does he?" I nod my head, "Yeah, Sonny's a good barber and an awesome sex buddy." Popcorn frowns, looking at Sonny, "Are you guys pulling my chain?" Sonny and I shake our heads and Popcorn asks me, "So, you're gay?" I laugh, "Yep," and he asks, "Are you 'out'?" and I go, "Yep." He gives Sonny a 'look', then says to me, "I've been trying to get Sonny to 'out' himself for the last couple of months." Sonny goes, "I am out! I told ya that ten times already," and Popcorn goes, "Not at school you're not. You told your family and that's about it." Sonny takes a deep breath letting it out slowly, asking me,"Haven't I told the posse boys, Dylan?" I chuckle, "Yeah, but they mostly don't believe you."

Popcorn gets us Cokes from a refrigerator in his garage telling Sonny and me what he's been doing working on his motorbike. They talk in esoteric mechanic terms known to guys familiar with that kind of thing. I nod my head like I know what they're talking about. Mostly I'm intrigued how Popcorn's demeanor is nothing like his appearance. I think of Dawg, who's like that too. I see affection between these two although they 'rag' on each other a lot as well. They're obviously good friends as well as sex buddies, but there's no touching. There's also no need for me to worry about Sonny as far as Popcorn goes. I'm happy Sonny's found himself a boyfriend. And Sonny's obviously not as shallow as I am when it comes to a guy's 'looks'. Not that this guy is ugly or anything, he's pretty much blandly average looking with thickish eyebrows, that's a big turn-off to me. Sonny bums a smoke off me and the two of us smoke while Popcorn tells us everything that's bad about smoking, ending with, "Not the least of the negatives Sonny is the smell." Sonny told me Popcorn doesn't make-out with him, but if he did he'd really have something to complain about regarding Sonny's smoking. Two smokers don't notice the smell or taste, but nonsmokers, forget about it. Listening to Popcorn's dissertation on the evils of smoking, I exchange smirks with Sonny although neither of us tries refuting what's being said because it's all true. Popcorn said everything in almost an apologetic manner, like he was sorry to have to point these things out to us smokers. He's a really nice low key guy and I'm happy for Sonny. Although Sonny could do better in the looks department, if he's into this guy, Popcorn, I'm all for it too. Looks aren't everything, even I know that, but if you have a choice...

Speaking of looks, Popcorn forever endears himself to me when he says, "Ya know, Dwight, if I were half as good looking as you I'd try modeling or something. Dude, you're the best looking guy I've ever seen and you're not taking advantage of your good fortune. No offense intended. It's more a compliment than anything else." I shrug, muttering, "Thanks, Popcorn, but I don't have as high opinion of my looks as you seem to." Sonny says, "Don't listen to him, Corn, he's as stuck-up as they come," and we break each other's balls a little bit, laughing at the good natured insults. Popcorn rubs Sonny's head again saying he needs a haircut himself and he asks Sonny where he got his buzz cut. Sonny tells him I did it and that starts another, 'Are you pulling my leg?' discussion from Popcorn. Then Sonny wants to get back to the main reason I'm here, asking Popcorn, "Can ya believe I'm fucking this hot college guy?" nodding at me. Popcorn quietly says, "I guess I have to believe it, but I wish you wouldn't. It makes me jealous," and Sonny sort of melts, putting his arm around Popcorn and scooting over closer to him, saying, "I bop his ass once in awhile, Corn, but you're my main man." Popcorn blushes a little shrugging his shoulders to get Sonny's arm off him as he moves away a little bit. He doesn't go for any physical signs of affection, although he's 'out'. That's odd. I go, "Sonny, I gotta get going, can you give me a lift back to my place now." Popcorn asks, "Is it okay if I ride along with you guys?" Sonny goes, "Fuck yeah, Corn. Ride with us," and Popcorn sort of sucks on his lips, then shyly asks me, "Do you think you could give me a buzz cut like Sonny's? I'd pay you for the haircut." Jeez, I don't

have a lot of interest in doing that because he's got course unruly hair and he's, um, not cute He's such a nice guy though, I say, "Um, yeah, okay, Cornelius, but you don't need to pay me." He goes, "Really?" and he looks at Sonny for confirmation. Sonny shrugs, "He my private barber so any friend of mine gets a free haircut." Sonny's certainly making the most of this bragging situation he's in currently. I can't help but grin though, then mumble, "I don't charge anyone, Corn, not just Sonny's friends." He says, "Gee,

thanks, Dwight."

We ride off with me hugging Sonny and enjoying his scent. I'd love to fuck him again, but I'm pretty sure these two have their own plans along those lines. Popcorn, wearing a helmet, rides his motorbike either next to us or in front. They both show off a little, grinning at each other and paying no attention to me. Why would they. It's a little bit of a wild ride with both riders trying to outdo the other, but we arrive safely. I get Sonny to drive around to the back of my condo so we can go right into the basement through the door next to the garage. They park their bikes and inside I skip the shampoo portion and get right to the haircut. Sonny tells Popcorn to take his shirt off and sit on the stool explaining I usually do a shampoo first, but due to time constraints we'll skip it this time. I'm thinking, 'This time?' then chuckle. Sonny's having a good time being the big shot for his friend, and it's kinda sweet. It takes five minutes to do the same buzz cut on Popcorn that I did for Sonny, although I miss the sexual arousal aspect of Sonny's haircut. When done it's a very good buzz cut, and looks better on Corn than Sonny actually. That's mostly because Popcorn has the perfect hairline as well as a nicely shaped head, and of course dark hair looks better than orange/red hair. Now that it's evenly buzzed his course hair doesn't appear course, and it's so dense no scalp shows. He's smart to wear his hair in a buzz. They're both thanking me, but I get the feeling they're a little anxious to do whatever it was Popcorn texted Sonny about in the first place. I can guess what that is, unless I'm projecting again.

They take off with Sonny doing the old posse boy's 'goodbye' of a hug and pat on the back, minus the kiss he usually gives me. I hear their wheelies and tires squealing and then it's very quiet and still. Looking at the pile of red and dark brown hair on the tile floor I'm shaking my head a little, still thinking those two don't look like they go together, but obviously they feel they do and good for them! Okay, after cleaning up the cut hairs and putting the barber stuff in the toiletry kid, I try to figure out what I want to do now. I decide, fuck it, I'll stay in tonight and be rested and feeling good tomorrow for lunch with mom and Tris, then my date with Robby that night. I'll make brunch on Sunday for the moms, then it's back to the grind of college final exams. No need to cloud my mind with any of that now though. I take a long bath which I hardly ever do on my own. My baths are usually joint efforts with another guy. When I'm feeling waterlogged, I drain the tub and take a shower to rinse off. I never feel rinsed getting out of a bath with soapy water and all.

After the shower I feel pretty good, but I'm still looking foreword to doing nothing. For dinner I order a pizza and while waiting for it to get here I fantasize the delivery boy will be an incredibly cute eighteen year old horny gay kid. Oh my god, will we ever have a hot sexy time together! We'll be fucking all around my bedroom. Then the pizza guy rings the front door bell and I open it to see some guy about sixty years old with something sticking out of one nostril. I avert my eyes immediately giving him the money, including too big a tip because I don't want him standing here any longer by making change. Inside I convince myself he didn't make the pizza, and the box the pizza's in was in that big cover thing that keeps the pizza hot, so he never even saw the fucking pizza and therefore, if he had another thing in his nose, it couldn't possibly have landed on the pizza. Opening the lid, I peek at the pizza looking for anything unusual, then nod my head making a mental note to never use that pizza shop again. Sixty year old delivery men with something sticking out of their nose is definitely not what I'm looking for. The pizza goes in the hot oven to crisp the crust. Soon I've forgotten about the derelict delivery man and eat the whole pizza while watching a Red Sox game against the Yankees. As usual with Yankee/Red Sox games, the game last four hours and six minutes before the Red Sox win 9 to 8. Then I do my bathroom stuff and get in my own bed, and with thoughts of Robby on my mind I fall asleep.

to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com donnymumford@outlook.com

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Hoping some readers may be interested, there are books of mine published and available on Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them for next to nothing. The books are under ten dollars. They are about a 19 year old gay boy (Oliver) who has a far different life than Dylan's. And there is a new book, 'Mike his Bike and Me'. Please at least check them out by typing my name on Amazon.com. Information about the story in the books can be found in some detail there. Thank you.

Donny Mumford

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